Late Night Visit
by firelitdreams
Summary: Companion to a href "firelit-dreams./1423.html" target "new"Attraction/a. Adam's view of what happened when Tommy showed up at his house.


I bury my head in the pillows, trying to muffle the sound. Who the hell would be at my door at three in the morning? Who'd think this was a good time for a visit? Okay, so stupid question, because a lot of the people in my life, most of my closest friends even, would find this a perfectly acceptable time for a house call. Less than two years ago, I'd have thought it was normal. I could ignore them and hope they go away.

I roll out of bed and head to the living room to see who it is. Of course, that's what I do because even though odds are good that it's just a very drunk friend that wants to visit, there's also a chance that something was wrong and I'd never forgive myself for not answering. I peek through the window near the door. What the fuck? Why would he even think this was a good time? He knows my schedule.

"Tommy?" I say, pulling the door open. "What's wrong? Why are you…?"

I don't even finish my question before Tommy is pulling me into a kiss. His body is pressed against mine, mouth moving over mine. What the fuck is going on? It's not so much that I object to pretty boys showing up at my door in the middle of the night, or that Tommy isn't my type, but last I checked he was straight and this isn't right. I raise my hands to his shoulders and push him away. He tries to reach for me again and I move back a few steps.

"What the fuck?"

I grab his arm and pull him inside, slamming the door closed. The last thing I need is for the paparazzi to get pictures of this. I push him into the room, staring at him, eyes wide. Definitely not sleepy anymore, I'm wide awake now.

"I want you," he says as if that explains everything. He starts to move toward me again, reaching for me. I hold him back, hands on his shoulders.

"You're high." Really that is the only explanation for him being here right now. His eyes are kind of wild as he reaches for me again. Fortunately, I'm bigger and stronger and this is so not happening tonight.

"No. Just a couple of beers," he says, straining against my hold, trying to get closer.

I've seen Tommy after a couple beers, this isn't it. This isn't even Tommy after many beers. There had to be something else. "No way did you just have two."

"I swear I did," he insists. "I'm not here because I'm drunk."

"Really?" I ask, "So you planned to come here tonight when you left your apartment?"

He stops and stares at me now. Thank God, maybe something's getting through to him, because I'm not a saint and if he keeps pushing this I can only fight it for so long. I mean really, it's not like I'm not attracted to him and if he'd come here sober I certainly wouldn't have pushed him away. I value my friendship with him too much for this, though. I'm not going to throw it all away on something I'm sure he'll regret tomorrow.

"Well, no but…"

"Then you must have had more than two beers," I point out, trying to be reasonable. "Or you took something?"

"I didn't take anything," he says, trying to pull me into another kiss. I push him away again. "I'm not high or drunk, Adam. I swear."

This is out of control and there's this part of me that says to stop fighting it. Other than the kissing me thing, he's really not acting like anything is wrong. He seems really sure of what he wants, and it's certainly not that I don't want him, so why am I fighting it. Oh right, I have morals. Morals that are hanging by a thread right now. "Tommy stop. I'll get you some coffee and we'll sober you up and I'll drive you home."

"No."

"Fine, then we'll sober you up and you can crash in the guestroom."

"Adam," he pleaded, trying to push toward me. He's stronger than he looks.

"You don't want this," I whined. My resolve to do the right thing fading fast. My cock had long ago given up the fight. I wanted him, have for a long time and the more insistent he was the harder it was getting to keep pushing him away.

"Yes," he said, reaching for and wrapping his hand around my cock. "I do."

I'm not a saint. There's only so much I can be expected to do. This crossed that line. I spun him around, slamming him against the wall as my mouth crashed down on his. I pushed my tongue past his lips into his mouth, tasting him. I pressed against him, grinding my pelvis into his, letting him feel how hard I was, how much I wanted him. His arms wrapped around me and he moaned into my mouth as he pushed into me.

I pulled my head away, breathing heavily. This had to stop. Or at least I needed to know he was sure this was what he wanted. I didn't want to lose him as my friend or bassist because of a stupid mistake. I reached down and wrapped my hand around his cock, squeezing it roughly with one hand and using the other to force him to look at me.

"You sure this is what you want?" I ask, breathing heavily. "We can stop right now, sober you up and send you home."

Tommy makes some sound in the back of his throat as he reaches for my head again to pull me into another kiss. The sound may have been an attempt at words. He pushes his hips forward, his cock sliding against my hand. Okay, so it didn't scare him away as planned. My lips crash into his again. Forcing him into the wall. Grinding into him as he pushed forward into me. He doesn't seem to be able to get close enough.

"Bed?" He moans as I tug at his shirt, raising it up so I can run my hands over his back and chest. I step back and grab his hand, pulling him toward my bedroom. This is what he wants. I'll just keep telling myself that and hope he doesn't hate me when he's sober tomorrow.

I wake up with the sun glaring in my eyes and a body half on top of me. I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the bright light and let out a sigh at the sight of the blond head resting on my chest. I really shouldn't have let anything happen last night, he's going to hate me when he wakes up. Another part of my mind is screaming, 'what if he doesn't?' That was a possibility, right? He drove all the way out here to see me in the middle of the night, so it's possible drunk or not he was acting on something that was already there.

Laying here speculating isn't going to do any good, and Tommy's going to wake up with one hell of a hangover. I know he says he wasn't drunk or high but something got him here last night and that something most likely will be making him miserable this morning. I gently push him off of me and get out of bed as slowly as possible so I don't disturb him. I find the sweat pants I pulled on last night to answer the door and slip into them again. I find a t-shirt and slip that over my head.

I go downstairs to start a pot of coffee. Tommy'll need it when he wakes up, I'm sure. My mind is still reeling and I have no idea what we're going to do now. What do I even want to happen? I've never let myself think about it before. Yeah, I've always thought he was cute, but I also have been operating on the assumption he was straight. He said he was straight. He'd had girlfriends. I'm not in the habit of trying to change straight boys so I never let my mind go there. I've been telling everyone for so long that I don't have time for a relationship but do I really think that? Am I really sure I can't make one work? Am I okay with this being a one-time hook up? Tommy works for me, if things get weird it's going to be a problem. All of this keeps running through my mind as I make coffee and listen for signs that Tommy is awake.

Then I hear a muttered "Fuck" come from my room. Time to head back and see just how bad things are going to get. I quickly fill a mug and make my way back to my room.

I push open my bedroom door and lean against the doorjamb and wait for Tommy to notice me. He's staring at the jacket that's folded and draped over the chair in the corner. He's obviously realized where he is now. When his attention turns toward me I say, "You're awake."

I extend the mug toward him. "Coffee?"

He takes it and his look flashes between grateful for the coffee and utter panic. "Are you okay?"

I watch as the panic seems to win out and settle over his features. This is going to be a very long morning. Part of me knows we need to talk now, before he goes home or things will get weird. The other part of me wants to just ignore than anything has happened. Unfortunately the rational side that knows we have to deal with it wins out and I offer to make breakfast while he showers. One way or another we'll work this out.

The end


End file.
